


Time After Time

by Tarlan



Category: Eureka
Genre: Angst, Community: smallfandomfest, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-29
Updated: 2012-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-10 23:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/472116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beverly's people had put the crew of the <i>Astraeus</i> into a virtual environment with the explicit intention of using their brilliant minds to create scientific advances that her people could utilize. They had already made some amazing breakthroughs - and Fargo has his own Eureka moment as he figures out something that will change the course of Jack's life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time After Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SmallFandomFest FEST11 - 2012
> 
>  
> 
> **Goes AU after episode 505: Jack of All Trades**

As far as most people were concerned, the _Astraeus_ Mission had been a complete disaster. They hadn't made it to Titan and they had lost Dr. Holly Marten - in body at least. Yet even though he couldn't understand more than one word in ten as Fargo talked of molecular structure and time and... whatever... as Jack listened to Fargo's excited words, he started to take on a different view of the ill-fated mission. 

"I can bring him back!"

"Bring who back?" Jack asked, confused as the only person _missing_ was Holly and he was sure Fargo knew she was a girl.

"Doctor Stark!"

Beverly's people had put the crew of the _Astraeus_ into a virtual environment with the explicit intention of using their minds to create scientific advances that her people could utilize. They had already made some amazing breakthroughs but this... This was... This was... His mind blanked.

"What?" Jack breathed softly.

"I can bring back Doctor Stark! He wasn't killed. He was... deleted from our time continuum but I think I can UN-delete him."

The shock rippling through him had Jack feeling lightheaded. If ever he had needed a jolt to remind him of the heavy burden of guilt he had carried since the day Nathan _died_ then this was it. He had always regretted not being the one to step into the chamber to set the atomic clock and stop the time loops. Oh, he had tried to convince himself many times over that he had been injured and maybe just a little too slow in understanding what it would do to a living person. He had let Nathan run his usual scientific rings around him; allowed Nathan to convince him that he didn't have the necessary scientific skills to press a button. In truth he had been convinced Nathan would never do anything so foolish as to endanger his own life, and Jack had been too tired and too hurt to play an unnecessary hero one more time. He had never expected Nathan to sacrifice himself for the world, and maybe that was Jack's greatest regret. He had spent so much time fighting with Nathan, trying to give back as good as he got, he had never looked beneath the sarcasm, competitive nature, huge ego, vast intellect, and snide comments to see the man that Allison had fallen in love with twice over.

Allison. He groaned.

Two days earlier, he had gone down on one knee in the middle of Café Diem and asked her to marry him - and she had said yes. If Fargo brought Nathan back then everything would change, and this time it wouldn't be from meddling with time. Yet, strangely, the thought of stopping Fargo never once crossed his mind. He owed Nathan that much.

"What do you need?"

Fargo stared at him in momentary confusion. "Nothing. I have everything I need already in the time lab. I just couldn't piece it together before. But now-."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

Fargo beamed at him and rushed away like an excited toddler, and Jack followed at a slightly more dignified jog. He reached the lab in time to see Fargo with fingers flying over a keypad already.

"Wait! Wait!" Fargo froze at Jack's voice. "Will we need anyone else here? A medical doctor?"

"No. He'll be exactly as he was before he was deleted... I think." A shadow of doubt crossed Fargo's face.

"You think?"

"It's all theoretical." Fargo whined, looking twitchy. "Some time... might have passed."

"How much time? Same as here? More? Less?" Jack had visions of Nathan materializing as a raving lunatic from over two years spent in what amounted to a sensory deprivation chamber with just his own sarcasm and huge ego for company, or emerging looking old enough to be his own great-grandfather.

Fargo fidgeted. "Yes. Less. A lot slower. Maybe a month for every passing year in real time?"

"A couple of months then. Three tops?"

Jack frowned as he wondered if that was still enough time for Nathan to go stark staring mad... except that phrase simply reminded him of the way Nathan Stark's smile would freeze and his eyes would take on a hard _I will kill you with my brain_ stare whenever someone did anything even remotely idiotic in his opinion. Jack winced. He'd been on the receiving end of that stare a number of times, along with the almost patented eye roll. Weirdly though, Jack had never taken it as a slight but more as a challenge, trying to see how far he could push Nathan's buttons before Nathan lost his _cool_. Until this moment, Jack hadn't realized how much he had missed that stare.

He found himself gravitating back to the place where he had stood on that fateful day - and where he had stood on so many other days over the past few years when yet another senseless death reminded him of all that he had lost, or when he simply wanted to talk things through to straighten out his own head. He had stood here after the _Astraeus_ went missing - taking Allison, Zane and Fargo with it - spending almost an hour slumped against the empty chamber while saying very little, as if Nathan was simply hidden behind the glass out of view, keeping him company.

"Do it," Jack ordered, and watched the chamber as Fargo keyed in the retrieval sequence.

Lights began to dance within the chamber, slowly swirling as if caught in a soft summer breeze. Different sparkles of light began to group together, growing larger, brighter, and within them Jack thought he could see something forming from the light and shadow. His breath caught as the familiar features began to re-form like the Cheshire Cat, with the smile coming first - perhaps the first and the last smile Nathan had aimed at Jack that had held none of their rivalry or animosity. A smile that said, _we could have been friends_. Jack found his heart aching at the sight of that smile.

The smile faded as Nathan solidified, confusion taking its place as his eyes swept over Jack, most likely seeing the changes in him. "How long?"

Jack rocked his head a little, suddenly wary of Nathan's mental state. "Two... two and half years, give or take."

"As precise as ever," Nathan stated with mild annoyance, and Jack couldn't help but grin because if Nathan was already using that tone with him then he was probably no more insane now than he was before entering the chamber.

The door unsealed and Nathan stepped out, and almost fell flat on his face as his knees buckled beneath him. Jack grabbed for him and slung one of Nathan's arms over his shoulder while he wrapped his own arm around Nathan's waist to support the taller man.

"Fargo!" Jack yelled and Fargo caught Nathan on the other side. Between them they lowered him onto a lab stool but Jack stayed close, letting Nathan lean on him. He could feel the heat of Nathan's body seeping through his uniform and the weight of Nathan's head lying heavy against his shoulder. Alarmed by Nathan's weakness, Jack looked to Fargo. "How about we get a medical opinion after all?"

Fargo looked a little shamefaced and sent a call through for medical assistance. In the meantime Jack held on to Nathan, strangely reluctant to let go of him as he welcomed the solid weight of Nathan in his arms as proof that this was one nightmare that had finally come to an end. Nathan's arm wrapped around Jack's body, fingers bunching up the material at the back of his uniform shirt, which was further proof that Nathan was alive, and still conscious. Jack couldn't see his face from this angle, only the dark curly hair and the shell of one ear.

"I got you," Jack murmured, feeling a deep well of emotion rising within him, and though he should have felt great, instead he felt sick to the stomach.

Jack wasn't surprised when Allison came running, accompanied by the other medics, and he looked at her shocked expression over the top of Nathan, smiling happily even though he knew Nathan's return could mean the end for them as a couple. She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Nathan and hugging him tightly, saying his name over and over.

"Allie," Nathan murmured, and Jack allowed her and the medics to take Nathan off his hands. He stepped back and watched as they loaded Nathan onto a gurney and wheeled him away with Allison holding Nathan's hand tightly in both of hers.

She never once looked back.

****

The pitiful looks aimed in Jack's direction only lasted a few days fortunately, quickly becoming old news in a town that seemed to find something new to talk about every day. He smiled as Henry settled into the seat opposite him at Café Diem.

"How are you holding up?" Henry asked and Jack was surprised at not feeling more upset at losing Allison. He had promised her he'd always be there for her, and when Nathan asked him to take care of Allison and Kevin in those final seconds, he had made a similar, silent promise to Nathan. He said as much to Henry.

"Looking back, I feel like I was standing in for him. A placeholder."

Henry nodded thoughtfully. "You've been carrying around a lot of guilt since it happened." Henry tilted his head a little, his voice going light and teasing. "And maybe you didn't hate him quite as much as you thought?"

"He was a pain in my ass."

"And I've never seen him get so rattled by anyone before you came along, Jack." Henry grinned. "He's never suffered fools gladly but he seemed to make a number of exceptions for you."

"You saying I'm a fool?"

"No. Not a fool but... Despite appearances to the contrary, he got a gleam in his eye whenever there was a chance to knock heads with you. He looked forward to it. The pair of you were like kids pulling pigtails."

"Now you're saying I'm childish."

Henry's grin grew even wider. "And you are avoiding the subject, my friend."

Jack didn't have an answer for that and, fortunately, Henry didn't push for one. Instead they turned the conversation to other subjects, but later, while slumped on his couch in the bunker waiting for the Dodgers to take the field, he had time to dwell on Henry's observations. For all their rivalry over Allison, he wondered if it would have been any different between them if Allison had been a car or a baseball card. Perhaps it had been the competition that had fired him up, making him wonder if he would have been as interested in Allison as more than a friend if not for the rivalry with Nathan - except Henry's words implied something else.

Pulling pigtails, Henry had said.

He felt a little uneasy as that was exactly what he had done at school when he had a crush on Angela in the 7th grade. He'd tormented her when all he really wanted to be was her boyfriend, but she had barely looked twice at him before he gained her attention by those other means. Now he realized that fighting with Stark wasn't the kind of attention he had wanted from Nathan either. He swallowed hard. What he had wanted from Nathan then - and now - was something he had discovered about himself after the accident that killed Angela, when even the thought of being with another girl left him too heartsick to breathe. Over the three years following Angela's death he had found solace with other guys, and that had only changed when he met Abby.

For once the game could not hold his interest and he found himself back at G.D., slipping into the Time Maintenance room and taking up his customary place even though he knew Nathan was no longer in there.

"I love Allison and I honestly thought I was _in love_ with her until you came back," he murmured softly, but just the remembrance of Nathan's heavy, warm body leaning against him had made him realize that what he felt for Allison had never been more than deep and abiding friendship. "Though if you hadn't come back then I kind of hope that friendship would have been enough for a lifetime together," but now he had his doubts. It was all moot anyway as Nathan was back and Allison had barely left Nathan's side since his return.

Two and half years ago he had still been in denial over Nathan, and he had been prepared to be Allison's friend as he gave her away on her wedding day to Nathan. Now, with his eyes wide open and knowing how he felt about Nathan, Jack wasn't sure he could stand to be around them every day, aware of all he had lost with Allison - and what he could never have with Nathan.

"We all need a second chance. You and Allison... I need to give you both that second chance."

Decision made, he returned to the Sheriff's office, pulled out the necessary paperwork, and began filling it in. It took a while despite being one of the smallest forms, mainly because memories assailed him, reminding him of all he was giving up. Eventually, he filed the report, sending copies to all the necessary departments before heading to Henry's garage. He leaned up against the door frame, hands buried deep in his pockets as he watched Henry work, wanting to add one more memory of his best friend before Henry noticed him.

"Jack!"

"Hey, Henry. I've been thinking."

"Steady on there, Jack," Henry replied with good-natured teasing but his smile faded as he read Jack's expression.

"I can't be here any longer. I can't watch him marry Allison and then go on as if everything is... fine."

"Give Allison some time. She might not choose Nathan-."

"But she should. That's the way it was always meant to be."

Part of Jack was so grateful Henry didn't understand it was the thought of losing Nathan that hurt the most. He wish he hadn't been so dense, not realizing how Nathan had sneaked under his defenses from the first snide comment, but it had taken until that, "I'll see you around, Jack", for him to even begin to understand what Nathan had meant to him and what he was about to lose. Henry's words had merely confirmed what he had tried so long to deny.

"I've put in a request for reassignment."

"Back to the U.S. Marshals?"

"And closer to Zoe."

Henry looked downcast but nodded his understanding.

Jack tried to lighten the moment. "You can come visit anytime. Hey! I can take you to a ball game. A real one." Jack knew from experience that his boyish enthusiasm would break the tension, and sure enough, Henry smiled softly.

****

Two weeks later, Jack glanced around his bare, rented apartment and the few boxes of his possessions placed in the center of the main room. Compared to S.A.R.A.H. the place was a dump but it would do until he had time to find some place better. Boston wasn't a city he had worked in before Eureka but it was only half an hour away from Harvard, giving him a chance to spend more time with Zoe.

Earlier in the day he had done a little clothes shopping, picking up five identical, cheap dark suits, a dozen white shirts, and a handful of ties in various colors, plain and striped. He hung up his new clothes and unpacked only the essentials from the few boxes before grabbing a cold beer from the refrigerator and picking up the phone. The TV wasn't state of the art like the one in the bunker, and it had only a few decent channels but he managed to find something interesting to watch while he waited for the pizza delivery.

The bed was lumpy and uncomfortable, leaving him tossing and turning all night, finally getting to sleep only an hour before he was due to get up. At least he had remembered there would be no wake up call from S.A.R.A.H. but he felt tired and miserable. His thoughts had turned over and over in his head, focusing on the people he had left behind in Eureka - and on Nathan. It didn't seem to matter how many times he told himself to forget about that old life, the images still bled through along with the remembered warmth of Nathan leaning against him, heavy and alive.

It seemed strange to head back into the bull pen after spending years with his own office, and stranger still to be called ' _marshal_ ' instead of ' _sheriff_ '.

As the days turned to weeks, Jack found it easier to push away the memories of what he had lost by immersing himself in his job. He took every assignment going, from prisoner transport to judicial and witness security. He'd even joined in a couple of fugitive operations in Boston, slowly gaining a working knowledge of the city. Every day brought something new, and this day was nothing different.

Jack sighed heavily as he watched other deputy marshals accompany the prisoner to the car. Pangin was one of the worst Jack had ever had to handle, and he'd accompanied more than a few murderers in his time, though usually they were shipped in groups using the U.S. Marshal's own planes. However, Pangin had made a deal to take them to where he had buried the bodies of his victims in return for special considerations while he waited on Death Row. Unfortunately for Jack, Pangin had committed his crimes in Nevada, and Jack hated flying.

"Must be my lucky day," Pangin stated as he drew closer. "They sent me a real pretty boy."

Jack ignored him as he signed the prisoner transfer forms.

"Get in the car," Jack ordered, and waited until he could close the door before climbing in the driver's seat. He checked in the rear view to see Pangin leaning forward in his seat, face pressed against the mesh between the front and back of the car. His deputy marshal - De Silva - got in the passenger side.

As they pulled away, Pangin started humming a tune that sounded vaguely familiar but as it wasn't too annoying, Jack let it go without comment, concentrating instead on driving as they headed towards the airport.

As usual, Jack and De Silva were allowed to board the commercial flight ahead of the rest of the passengers, to give them time to settle and lock Pangin into his window seat at the back. It was cramped but prisoner transportation never warranted anything other than flying coach. Jack left a whole seat between him and Pangin, leaving De Silva to take a seat on the other side of the aisle. As the passengers began to file on-board, he was stunned when someone tried to take the seat between him and Pangin. A flash of his ID and the rattle of Pangin's handcuffs had the woman's eyes widening with shock and saw her quickly moving on.

De Silva chuckled. "This airline is known to upgrade passengers if they've over allocated coach. Closer you sit to the back of coach, more chance it will be you."

"Somehow I don't think they'll be upgrading us," Jack replied with a grin. The media would have a field day if some murderer and his official escort was given Business or First Class treatment.

The flight took off smoothly, and Jack relaxed his white-knuckled grip as soon as they had leveled out and were allowed to take off their seat belts. He had never been that keen on flying, preferring to drive. An hour into the flight, Pangin started humming again as he stared at Jack in a way that made Jack's skin crawl. The tune was both annoying and frustrating in its familiarity, until Pangin began to sing the words, low and heavy.

"On the day that you were born the angels got together, and decided to create a dream come true. So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold and starlight in your eyes of... blue."

In sudden understanding, the words and leers made Jack feel sick, and he quickly rose to his feet.

"I'm going to take a short break."

De Silva nodded and slid into the seat that Jack had vacated. Behind their seats was the start of Business and First class, and Jack stepped through the closed curtain, gaining a welcoming smile from the flight attendant who knew he was with the U.S. Marshals.

"Marshal, can I help you?"

"Jack. Just call me Jack." She smiled brighter in response to his smile. "Can I grab a coffee?"

"Sure, but, between you and me, the better coffee is in the First Class kitchen."

Jack pointed along the cabin towards the back of the craft and she swept back the curtain to let him go through. Jack felt a moment of envy as he walked through Business Class with its more spacious seating. He felt eyes upon him, aware of being sized up in his cheap suit and tie compared to their more expensive clothing but the one thing Jack had learned from years as a U.S. Marshal was not to waste money on work suits. In the three weeks since leaving Eureka he had already ripped two suit pants and a jacket while chasing fugitives. The curtain ahead of him opened and the attendant smiled in welcome. She was the head attendant; the one who had greeted him when he first boarded with his prisoner.

"Heard there was better coffee back here."

"Let me pour you a cup, Marshal."

"Jack," he stated, accepting the cup and taking a sip, humming in appreciation. It wasn't as good as a Vinspresso but still a lot better than the swill brewing in the Boston field office. "Not bad," he stated softly.

The First Class curtain jerked open suddenly, and Jack startled, almost dropping the cup as his hand made an aborted gesture towards his gun. Nathan jerked as well, staring at Jack in surprise but he recovered quickly.

"Jack."

"Nathan. I... Slumming it?"

"What?" Nathan seemed to catch on a moment later. "Convenience. Can't always use the private jet."

Jack nodded, though he cast an eye at the flight attendant, who picked up a tray and moved past Nathan into First Class, leaving them alone.

"So. How's Allison?"

"She's... good."

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "Henry says you haven't set a new wedding date yet."

"No. Not yet."

They stood in awkward silence, and Jack couldn't resist taking quick glances at Nathan's face and body, almost desperate for the visual reminder and new memories of the man he had come to love against all common sense - and whom he had lost to a woman he had also loved. He hooked his thumb back towards the lower sections.

"I have to go back now. Prisoner transport. He's probably missing me right about now."

For once, Nathan seemed to want to prolong the conversation. "Anyone I've heard of?"

"Maybe." Jack shrugged. "But no one you want to know. And he seems to have taken an unhealthy liking to me."

Nathan mumbled what sounded like, "Not the only one."

"Sorry?"

"Unhealthy? Guess you're his type."

"He's so not my type. He abducted, tortured, and murdered his last five _boyfriends_. Only thing mind-blowing for them was the .22 caliber bullet through their brains."

Nathan grimaced. "So, what is your type, Carter?"

Tall and dark, Jack wanted to say but instead he shrugged, aware that he had taken longer from his duties than anticipated. "Look. I've got to go."

Jack walked away but he could feel Nathan's eyes burning a hole in his back all the way through Business Class, almost slumping in relief as he closed the curtain behind him. De Silva was reading and started up, but Jack waved him back into the seat much to Pangin's annoyance. The rest of the flight passed quietly, with Jack deep in thought. When they arrived in Las Vegas, Jack and De Silva waited for the passengers to disembark before getting Pangin to his feet.

First Class would have left the plane almost immediately and yet Jack still felt a jolt of disappointment when he saw no sign of Nathan. Giving himself a mental shake, he pushed thoughts of Nathan from his mind and led Pangin off the plane, ignoring the continued diatribe on his looks, and smarting at the deliberate brush of Pangin's body up against his as they walked to the waiting U.S. Marshal transport. The guy was as creepy as all hell. It took only a moment to hand over his prisoner, signing the necessary documents, much to Jack's relief.

Pangin looked back as he was led to the car, catching Jack's attention. "Jack? I'll be seeing you again. Soon."

Jack scoffed. "Only if I attend your execution."

He and De Silva had a three hour delay before the first commercial flight back to Boston, giving him far too much time to think, so it was a relief to finally board even though he still hated flying. He tried unsuccessfully to concentrate on the in-flight entertainment, yet all through the flight his thoughts remained on Nathan, and on how good he had looked in his 3,000 dollar suit. Once he was back on solid ground, Jack scrubbed his hands through his hair and yawned widely, letting De Silva take the wheel as they headed back towards the office to file their reports.

***

Area 51 had very little to offer compared to Eureka. It had some good scientists but the best of the best usually ended up in Eureka. Still, occasionally they came up with something worth pursuing, and Colbert's idea of an accelerated particle beam had sounded exciting on paper but worthless in practice. To all intents and purposes, it had been a wasted trip - except for seeing Jack.

As Colbert droned on, Nathan gave up on the man and his already debunked theory in favor of remembering his encounter with Jack. It was the first time he'd seen Jack since his return to current time, with Jack already gone by the time he was allowed out of the Global Dynamics infirmary. Nathan had spent the first week catching up on two and a half years of progress and disasters, feeling his gut tighten whenever Jack's name was mentioned, which was often. He only heard about the marriage proposal when Vincent visited, and was smug at first until it dawned on him that all he felt was a hollow victory.

Everyone had moved on. Allison had moved on, and though he quickly discovered he had a daughter with her, the subject of marriage was never raised between them. Any time they drifted close to the subject, one or both of them shied away, and damn it, he never expected to miss Jack Carter's stupid grin.

He'd seen an echo of that grin today - awkward rather than carefree - and never had Nathan felt more inadequate than in that moment, not knowing what he could say to keep Jack talking with him. All those taunts from Jack over the years came back to haunt him.

Who raised you?

And all those mentions of his ego barely fitting within the walls of G.D. Yet, for all his vast intellect and air of superiority, he couldn't find a way to hold onto Jack when coming face to face with him in that airplane kitchen. He'd looked good though, maybe a little more gaunt than Nathan remembered but then Nathan had not exactly had much of an appetite these past weeks. Watching Jack walk away gave him a pain in his chest and he couldn't seem to break his gaze away from the sight of those broad shoulders and strong legs so perfectly displayed even in a cheap suit.

When they landed, he caught a glimpse of Jack waiting for everyone else to leave the plane. Nathan had lingered as long as he could, watching from just inside the terminal as Jack and another U.S. Marshal led their prisoner to a vehicle waiting on the tarmac, and resenting every unwanted brush of that prisoner against Jack.

Colbert dropped the laser pointer, and the clatter brought Nathan's attention back to the presentation. He sighed in annoyance, wondering why he was even bothering to hide his disinterest. He'd already spent enough time away from Eureka, speaking at a Particle Physics conference at Harvard, before traveling across the whole country for this complete waste of his time. It was time to go home.

Nathan unfolded his body from a chair meant for someone a good six inches shorter than himself.

"Doctor Colbert, I think you've wasted enough of my time today."

He stalked out, leaving the man spluttering in indignation behind him, and ordered a helicopter made ready to take him back to Eureka.

Less than two hours later, he was sitting in his semi-darkened office. He had taken over as joint head of G.D. only a week earlier, after Fargo made the offer so he could spend more time with the reanimated Doctor Marten and his own projects. Taking up the reins of G.D. had come easy despite the missing two and half years as even though the science had moved on, the politics were still the same. On the helicopter flight back to Eureka, the enforced downtime had left his thoughts circling on Jack, dredging up flickering memories from his time caught outside of the time continuum. Still confused by those tiny moments of light in the darkness, he played on a hunch and called up the surveillance logs for the Time Maintenance room from the time following his deletion.

The room remained depressingly empty for a long time as he fast forwarded - until he saw Jack. He paused the playback and rewound to the point where Jack entered the empty room, listening to the, at first, faltering words that flowed easier with every subsequent visit. The only visitor. Mostly, Jack stayed only a few minutes; sometimes he was happy, sharing an inane moment that Nathan would have sneered at and walked away from in the past. Other times he was sad, or angry, even occasionally resentful when someone treated him like he was a complete moron one moment and then looked at him as if he had all the answers in the entire universe in the next. Yet he would always end each visit with that grin followed by a soft, "See you around, Nathan."

Nathan recalled Jack was there, standing in the same spot, when Fargo brought him back into the time continuum. He recalled the wonder and pleasure in those blue eyes, that beautiful, stupid grin, and the strong arms that had caught him when his knees buckled beneath him. He paused the playback, caught with his arms wrapped around Jack, and his head buried against Jack's shoulder, and held just as tightly in return. He could still remember Jack's warmth and clean scent filling his senses after so long of sensing nothing at all.

Just thinking about Jack made him feel twisted up inside, and it took him a moment to finally understand that it wasn't revulsion, or annoyance, or bowel irritation, or any other excuse he had made over the last few years. It was love; stronger than anything he had felt for Allison in years but irritatingly apparent now he had cut through the denial.

"Crap," he murmured, using Jack's favorite curse.

He sank his head into his hands, annoyed at his failure to recognize how deep his feelings had gone for Jack. His only commiseration was that, despite his brilliance, failure was a fact of life for all scientists - including him. Some theories were swiftly debunked while others took years of trials and testing before they were eventually abandoned. The only difference between Eureka and the rest of the world was that the scientists here were at the top of their respective fields working on theories that had a far greater chance of being proved.

How many times had he failed at his A.I. neural network before Callister? How many tests had failed when he tried to save Allison from the bio-luminescence caused by Diane Lancaster's machine? And how many times had Jack pulled together all the fine threads when the rest of them had run out of ideas? Perhaps Jack hadn't built the machine that saved them but he had pointed them in the right direction, and often had then taken on the dangerous role of using that science.

Nathan realized he was guiltier than most for taunting Jack over his lower I.Q. level, and at this moment, he felt no pride in his higher intellect. What he did have, though, was the power to have Jack reassigned back to Eureka, except he had no idea where Jack was currently assigned. He knew Jack was originally from Los Angeles but he could see no reason why Jack would be on a prisoner transfer assignment between Boston and Las Vegas if that was the case - unless he had multiple assignments, transferring a prisoner from L.A. to Boston and then picking up another to transfer most of the route back to L.A.

Henry had kept in touch with Jack so he would know, but Nathan hadn't seen Henry this uncommunicative since the death of Kim Anderson, plus he had a strong feeling Henry was blaming him for Jack leaving. Deciding not to open up any fresh wounds with Henry, Nathan picked up the phone and contacted the D.O.D.

"I'd like to check on the whereabouts of U.S. Marshal Jack Carter."

"Just a moment, Doctor Stark." Nathan waited with some impatience, tapping his fingers against his desk until the woman's voice returned. "Marshal Carter is currently in transit between Las Vegas and Boston. He is due to land at Logan International in two hours. Would you like me to place a call via the aircraft's captain?"

"No. Thank you," he murmured.

He ended the call and leaned back in his chair. So Jack was in Boston, which made sense as Zoe was studying at Harvard. A simple call would have him reassigned but what if Jack refused? Nathan wasn't completely sure why Jack left in the first place unless he was under some misguided belief that Nathan and Allison would carry on with their second-time-around wedding. Of course Nathan could tell him that he and Allison had agreed to be friends but that would leave the field wide open for Jack, and Nathan wasn't sure he could handle seeing a happily-married Jack and Allison every day.

He growled in annoyance, frozen into inaction by his own selfish streak in wanting Jack for himself.

Two more weeks passed while he vacillated between bringing Jack back to Eureka and leaving things as they stood between them, although it didn't stop him from monitoring Jack's activities. Several more prisoner transfers, some judicial protection for Judge Aimes, followed by a fugitive hunt that had Jack bouncing all over from Maine to Maryland.

Several times a day he played the surveillance footage from the Time Maintenance room, always pausing on that last shot of Jack as the medics took Nathan away, convinced that the sadness etched across Jack's face was solely from knowing he had lost Allison. A call came in just as he was about to stop the playback altogether, and he accidentally hit the forward key instead without noticing. It had been programmed to stop when it heard Jack's voice and Nathan almost dropped the phone when he heard Jack's hesitant words.

 _I love Allison and I honestly thought I was_ in love _with her until you came back._

He hung up on the General without even an apology, and replayed this last moment of soul-searching by Jack, heart beating faster in his chest as his mind tried to give a fantasy-filled meaning to Jack's words, but the pragmatist in him exerted itself. He turned the footage off after the third time through and closed down everything. He needed to think and G.D. was not the best place to wrestle with personal demons.

That night he barely slept as he imagined all the possibilities and tried to work out plausible ways of letting Jack know how he felt about him, without looking foolish if it was all in his mind and Jack held no strong feelings for him in return. He was no closer to a solution when he arrived at G.D. early the following morning, and he quickly buried himself in his work so he didn't have to think about Jack, if only for a short while.

The world news played on the screens in front of him as he worked through a pile of reports detailing the latest progress in several highly classified experiments. Images flashed across the screen unheeded by him as he thought through the processes involved in the super-density project currently under test in Section 5. Perturbed by some of the parameters of the test, he leaned forward to call for Zane and caught a glimpse of a strangely familiar face.

Fargo barged in at that moment, already talking at high speed.

"Shut up, Fargo," he ordered as he froze the news story and tried to recall where he'd seen the man's face before. Jack's voice spoke inside his head as he recalled that awkward conversation from two weeks earlier.

_He seems to have taken an unhealthy liking to me._

Nathan pulled the news story back up and listened intently. Pangin had escaped thirty-six hours earlier from a maximum security prison outside of Las Vegas after feigning an injury. The U.S. Marshals had lost his trail after Pangin managed to disappear inside McCarran International in Las Vegas. The reporter carried on:

"The U.S. Marshal's service has issued a country-wide alert for Jarrod Pangin, who is considered highly dangerous and should not be approached by a member of the public."

_He's so not my type. He abducted, tortured, and murdered his last five _boyfriends_. Only thing mind-blowing for them was the .22 caliber bullet through their brains._

A feeling of dread swept over Nathan even though he knew the chances of Pangin going after Jack were infinitesimal; he snatched up the phone.

"I want Marshal Jack Carter placed into protective custody immediately and brought to Eureka for his own protection. And let me know when you have him."

The D.O.D. officer seemed confused but Nathan knew they would follow through with his request.

"What's happened to Jack?" Fargo asked hesitantly.

"Nothing. Just erring on the side of caution." Nathan dredged up a smile.

The phone rang and he snatched it up immediately. "What do you mean you can't locate him? When was he last seen?" Nathan listened to the D.O.D. agent. "I want you to find him," he ordered.

"Nathan?" Fargo was now looking unsettled, and it took a moment to realize Fargo was calling him by his name rather than his title for the first time. In the past Nathan would have corrected him immediately, irritated by the familiarity, but this Fargo was not the bumbling but brilliant assistant he had once known. Doug was the joint head of G.D. who had earned Nathan's respect for bringing him back - and for keeping Jack alive during those missing years.

"Pangin took an unhealthy interest in Jack. And Jack's not been seen since going off duty yesterday."

"What if Jack met someone... and overslept?"

"What if Pangin has him?"

Fargo swallowed loudly. "I can locate Jack."

Nathan stared hard at Fargo, who squirmed. "How?"

Looking a little furtive, Fargo cleared his throat. "I put a subcutaneous transponder inside him during his final medical... so I could keep track of him."

Nathan stared even harder at Fargo.

"What!? He's my friend. I like to check up on his whereabouts... occasionally."

Pushing back from his desk, Nathan beckoned Fargo over. "Activate it."

Moments later a grid appeared, slowly narrowing down to a desolate warehouse district close to Boston; an unlikely place for a romantic tryst. Nathan leaned over and sent all the details to the closest tactical squad, aware he would look an idiot if it did turn out to be a false alarm but unwilling to take that risk with Jack's life. He remained silent while Fargo slowly dropped into the seat opposite, aware that all they could do now was wait.

****

Jack cried out, awakening to indescribable pain as Pangin dragged a sharp knife diagonally across his lower ribs on one side.

"Ah! My sleeping prince awakens."

"Shouldn't that be princess?" Jack gasped, and caught Pangin's growing smile. "Wait! That didn't... come out right."

He tried to move but there was very little give in the ropes binding his wrists and ankles to each corner of cold slab beneath his stripped naked body. Another attempt made him gasp again as he felt the all too familiar twinge of cracked ribs and deep bruising. Pangin had worked him over pretty good before he lost consciousness late last night, and he could feel the blood seeping across and down his side and pooling beneath him. Silently he cursed his own stupidity for not paying more attention when he entered his small apartment yesterday after work. Pangin had been waiting for him in the shadows, taking him down in a blitz attack, and transporting him here before using him as a punch bag to subdue him further. His head still hurt from the blow that had knocked him unconscious in his apartment; his vision blurry from a probable concussion. He hated concussions. Jack panted hard to control the pain, gradually feeling the intensity lessen. A glance around him revealed a gloomy room with only a small amount of light passing through the grime of a series of cracked windows high above the floor. Enough light for Pangin to see his handiwork, and for Jack to see Pangin preparing to inflict even more pain on him.

The light glinted off sharp metal, cleaned and polished to a cold shine.

After the authorities discovered two victims of his grisly crimes outside Las Vegas, they had tried to link Pangin to several more disappearances of men both there and in the Boston area. Pangin had given them the location of three more victims outside Las Vegas, but without bodies or a primary murder scene here in Boston, they had no way to confirm that several other disappearances were linked to Pangin, only that those missing men were all within the same age range, racial group, coloring, and build Pangin had chosen in all his other victims. Victims who looked like Jack. No doubt Pangin intended to hold onto that information to prolong his temporary stay of execution, slowly releasing details of where the bodies were buried in exchange for continued life. Unfortunately, Jack and this place were all the proof the authorities needed now, but he had a sickening feeling he would disappear into a shallow grave like the other missing victims - deleted from the universe like Nathan, but with no chance of ever coming back.

He would be dead.

"You have such a beautiful body. Strong, muscular... yet flesh is so fragile too."

Jack bit back on a cry but couldn't hold back on a whimper escaping as Pangin rubbed his hand over his body. The callous touch sent jags of pain through him as Pangin scraped his fingernails along the knife wound, smearing Jack's blood, and pressed too hard on damaged ribs and bruises.

"And you cry out so beautifully too." Pangin picked up another knife and held it up to the light, letting Jack see the wickedly sharp blade. "I want to hear you cry out again. I want to hear you scream and beg."

"Have you considered acting classes? Because that is... _way_ over the top?"

He cried out in pain as the knife sliced through his skin across a pectoral, dragged slow and deliberate.

"Oh Jack, if you're trying to goad me into finishing you off quicker then you are so mistaken. We have so much more fun ahead of us, and I intend to take as much time as I need with you. I intend-."

A small sound echoed from outside the room and Pangin straightened, head cocked to one side as he listened. It was probably just a rat but Jack felt a flare of hope regardless. He braced himself carefully, slowly tensing; mentally prepared when the door slammed inwards suddenly and a half dozen shouts filled Pangin's torture chamber as black-clad figures in TAC vests stormed the room.

Jack held his breath as Pangin snarled, raising the knife and bringing it in a downward arc towards Jack's heart - and the small room echoed with the sound of a dozen gunshots, lifting Pangin off his feet and throwing him beyond reach of Jack. The shock that Jack had managed to keep at bay for so long came crashing down as a face swam in his line of sight.

"We got you, Marshal! You're safe now!"

When the medic whipped out a portable prototype MRI and scanned him, Jack knew whom he had to thank for his extremely fast rescue.

"He bugged me," Jack exclaimed much to the medic's confusion. Jack thought Fargo had looked a little cagey when he insisted on him having a full set of inoculations before leaving Eureka, and one of those needles had been a lot larger than the others. But at this moment, all he could feel was gratitude.

****

Under the circumstances, Jack should have expected to find the G.D. infirmary swimming into view when he next opened his eyes and yet he was still surprised to find himself back in Eureka. He tried to move but pain lanced through him from his various injuries.

"OW!"

The small prick of a needle was not noticeable among the stabs of pain everywhere else, but the flood of pain-relieving drugs felt heavenly. He drifted along with the drugs coursing through his body, feeling all the pain wash away, leaving him floating. A familiar voice brought his eyes open again and found he was looking straight into Nathan's blue-green eyes.

"Oh WOW! This feels good. I love this feeling." Jack grinned broadly and saw the twitch of a smile on Nathan's lips. "The drugs," he stated as he focused on Nathan's mouth, mesmerized for a long moment before looking back up to meet Nathan's eyes. "Not you. I'm not supposed to love you 'cause you're mean."

"Love me?"

Jack frowned, trying to replay his words back in his head but everything was... floaty. "Did I say love? I meant like. I don't _like_ you."

"No. You just said you're not supposed to love me, which means you do love me."

"No..." Jack dragged out the word. "Saying I love you would be the most stupid thing... _ever_."

"Actually, Jack. It's probably the smartest thing you've ever said to me." Before Jack could work up an answer he felt soft lips press against his own. "And if I was smarter than you then I'd say the same thing back," Nathan murmured as he pulled back a fraction. "Oh wait! I am smarter." He leaned in closer and whispered, "I love you too."

Positive the drugs and mild concussion were seriously messing with his sense of reality, Jack simply went with the flow because at least it was a good hallucination. Nathan was every bit as good at kissing as he seemed to be in everything else he did, and Jack's lips were about the only parts of his body that actually felt good except for... Oh yes, and that was going to be embarrassing later, he thought disjointedly as his dick hardened.

He moaned in annoyance when Nathan pulled away out of reach. This was supposed to be _his_ drug-induced fantasy after all.

Above him Nathan grinned before leaning in and whispering, "I'll be back later when you're drug-free to prove it's no fantasy, Jack."

Jack wasn't aware of losing consciousness but when he awoke again, the pain was still sharp but manageable without more painkillers. He groaned softly and turned his head, surprised to see Nathan's tall frame slumped into a chair beside him. Only then did he notice the warm fingers entwined with his own. Ignoring that for the moment, he squeezed the fingers and waited until Nathan's eyes opened. 

"Did you tell Fargo to put that locator in my butt?"

Nathan cleared his throat. "No. That was all Fargo. Remind me to thank him later."

Jack glanced down at their joined hands, half expecting Nathan to drop his hand as if burned but instead, Nathan tightened his grip.

"Not a drug-induced fantasy, Jack," he murmured, before leaning in and kissing him soundly.

****

**Two weeks later:**

"Welcome home, Sheriff Carter. How was your first day back?"

"It's good to be back, S.A.R.A.H. Is Nathan home yet?"

"Doctor Stark is upstairs in the shower."

"Oh, is he?"

With a boyish grin, he took the stairs two at a time and entered their bedroom, quickly taking off his sidearm and boots before stripping out of the rest of his clothing. He could hear the shower and, stepping into the bathroom, he saw Nathan's tall figure through the frosted glass panel. Jack stepped up behind him, wrapping his arms around Nathan's waist and kissing the wet skin at the nape of his neck.

Nathan turned in his arms, smiling broadly as he ducked his head to kiss Jack, humming happily as he pressed Jack backwards until Jack was flush against the warmed tiles. Nathan pushed one leg between Jack's thighs, and Jack gasped in pleasure as their stiffening cocks aligned. With a smooth rocking motion, they quickly moved towards completion, fingers digging in harder as Jack felt his release building, finally tipping over the edge when he felt the heat of Nathan's climax splash against his stomach.

They held each other up as the afterglow flowed through them, slowly parting long enough to step back under the warm spray of water to clean up before stumbling out of the shower and falling onto the bed, heedless of dampening the sheets.

"Good first day back... Sheriff?"

"Yeah... and getting better with every second."

Nathan nudged at Jack until they were lying with Jack partially covering him; his damp head resting on Nathan's equally shower-damp chest. They dried off quickly in the warm air now circulating through the bedroom, while the dampness wicked from the sheets beneath them, leaving them fresh and dry.

"I love this bed," Jack stated happily.

"I love what's in it," Nathan replied, and Jack shared his happiness with a soul-searing kiss.

END


End file.
